


To Come Full Cycle

by MsLanna



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Friendship, Gen, prothean experience exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-17 12:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4666758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsLanna/pseuds/MsLanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They died and were revived to fight the Reapers. Best conditions to become friends, right? Still Shepard worries that no matter how well-adapted Javik seems, he is not. And Shepard on a mission is unstoppable Shepard...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Happiness Is A Warm Gun

“Commander.” He did not even look up.

Still the way Javik pronounced that word was imprinted in her memory forever. The Prothean had seemingly adapted to life in another cycle among primitives. Commander Shepard knew it couldn’t be easy for him. And sometimes it still showed.

“Are you okay?”

“Please elaborate.” His hands played in the water.

“I just worry for you sometimes Javik. You spend a lot of time holed up down here. Do you ever think about socialising. Even a little?”

“Your worry is unnecessary,” he replied. “I am interacting with the other members of the team for acceptable durations.”

“That's not how I would have put it.” Shepard sighed. “And it does not answer my question.”

“I am perfectly capable to perform my duties, Commander.”

“I am sure,” she agreed. “But that was not my question either.”

“Then you will indeed have to elaborate,” Javik insisted.

“I'm not sure I can think of a better way to ask.” Shepard crossed her arms before her. “There is no doubt you are an excellent soldier. I am grateful for your help in this fight. I think of you as more than a mere soldier, though. You are a friend. And you keep to yourself a lot.”

“Which has no impact my performance.”

“It's not your skills that worry me Javik. With all you have been through, and I mean all, I wonder how you are holding up? Is there something I can do to make you feel more at home, more at ease?” She shook her head. “Do you have everything you need? This is the greatest war this galaxy has seen in this cycle. It will be the last war many of us see.”

“This is nothing new for me, Commander,” Javik replied, his hands still half under water. “In my cycle the war had progressed even further. There is more hope for you now than we ever had.”

Than you ever had, Shepard wanted to correct him but she didn't. “I am glad to hear you have found hope again.”

“If you refer to what I said about my men and the Cronian Nebula,” Javik said, “I have not changed my mind.”

“I am sorry you are so lonely,” she sighed.

“I am far from alone,” he corrected her.

“You can be very lonely among people,” Shepard said. “I really wished some of your kind had survived on Ilos or at least Vigil was still there.”

“What would I gain from talking to one of our VIs?” Javik asked. “It was not equipped like the beacons.”

“Do you mean the knowledge transfer through touch?” Shepard asked

“Yes. It was most common in my cycle. Communicating without it is incomplete. Even if it was just,” he seemed to be searching for a word, “small talk.”

“You used the ability to chat?” Shepard couldn't help smiling.

“We were at war, Commander. Time was precious but we were still social beings.” He blinked slowly, remembering his own cycle. “It saved a lot of time to communicate experiences this way.”

“I am sorry,” She apologised. “I didn't think. It is fascinating to think you can talk like that. Share knowledge, experiences or memories.”

“Your cycle has not developed this ability,” Javik's tone was disgusted. “You are wasting precious time talking.”

“Are you trying to tell me to leave?” Shepard raised a brow. “What happened to your straightforwardness?”

“I was not asking you to leave,” Javik replied. “Just get to the point.”

“Are you happy?” Shepard shrugged.

“I am the last of my species, the only Prothean alive in this cycle, an avatar of vengeance, and fighting the Reapers again,” Javik said. “What do you expect?”

“I don't know. That's why I'm asking you. Is there something that makes you happy despite? Is it something I can help with?”

“I see.” He leant against the high tank. “I am the vengeance of my people. I see reapers die, I see resistance still holding out. It is more than was possible in my cycle.”

Shepard sighed and let her shoulders slump. “I will take that as 'no' and 'fuck off'. Message understood.”

“Would you have me lie, Commander?” Javik asked.

“No,” she smiled in resignation. “I had just hoped. Well, I guess it doesn't matter.”

“Your concern for your subordinates is your weakness.” He blinked slowly. “But you need not worry for me. I have all I can have in this cycle.”

“Maybe a small bit of happiness now and then?” Shepard kept prodding ignoring the stab at her style of leadership for the moment.

For a long moment Javik just looked at her, his double pupils eerily still in the yellow of his eyes. “I will show you, Commander. To put our mind at ease. You are tenacious in all your pursuits.”

“I am sorry if I am bothering you, Javik. You do not have to prove anything to me.”

“But you will be at ease if I do.” His tone was amused. “And that will grant me better solitude.”

“I appreciate it,” Shepard replied, not adding 'I guess'. She was not quite sure what the Prothean was about to do.

“So will I. Hold out your hands.”

Shepard complied watching the Prothean closely. They did get along well enough to give her the feeling that they might be friends apart from a few pointed exchanges. He was difficult to understand and she suspected he was keeping it like that on purpose.

“Turn your palms up,” Javik told her. “It is the sign that you are ready to share an experience.”

“Alright?” She slowly turned her hands. This was not what she had expected. But it had been common in his time. He likely missed this kind of communication. And foreign as it had been, the first contact had left her curious.

“Remember,” he looked at her, “that you are asking the vengeance of a people about happiness, Commander.”

“I will.”When Javik gripped her arms, Shepard closed her eyes without conscious thought, the sheer knowledge of not being alone almost overwhelming her. But it was a familiar feeling, utterly new and comfortable. The way it should be. Civilised. Home. And yet.

Clouds hanging low under an ochre sky, wind and sand. Tuchanka. Home of the krogan. Not civilised. Not then, not now. War-faring. The smell of dry ashes blowing in the air. The Reaper looming before them and adrenaline coursing through her veins.

The thudding of the hammers, the thudding of her heart, and the scream of the Reaper as they fought, waiting for the mother of all Thresher Maws. The fleet's cannons on the black Reaper hull and Kalros rising from the ground like the vengeance of the planet. She could feel the impact as they hit the ground. The pulsing of the earth as Kalros pulled the Reaper under.

Vengeance.

Blue skies another downed Reaper, towering against the rocky ledge and tiny on it, dwarfed the she-ape, still standing, still fighting. She could feel the exhilaration with each hit, the throbbing intoxication of vengeance fulfilled, ecstasy as the Reaper finally collapses. Standing on the ledge under wispy clouds, watching it die. Victory.

Breathing in life as its red light goes out, the whole body tingling with joy another one dead. Killed on foot. Burning thrill of the hunt. Hope for this cycle and vengeance for her people. The she-ape turning around, murder still spelt out over her face and the turmoil of conflicting assessments, feelings, facts, facets hitting her like a grinding wave.

Shepard stumble backwards, blinking. Javik had let go of her arms. She staggered, reached out to steady herself on his arm, refrained. This communication was definitely closed.

“You have seen enough,” Javik said.

“I,” she blinked again. “Thank you.”

There was a flood of questions running through her none of which felt remotely appropriate to ask right now.

“Can you rest assured now, Commander, that I am not, as you would call it, overcome with self-pity.” He returned to the basin, dipping his hands into the water again.

“I could see, feel,” Shepard shook her head. “I understand that now. Thank you.”

“Commander?”

It was a question now, enquiring if there was any reason she was still lingering.

“I should go.” Shepard turned to leave. Then she hesitated glancing back at the Prothean who stood as if absorbed by the moving surface before him. “If there is any way I can return the favour, if that even works,” she hesitated. “Just let me know. Okay?”

“Acknowledged.” He didn't look up.

“Right. Good. I should go.”

The door closed behind her but she could not shake the images of the memory. The emotions were muted now. The vividness of the experience was shocking. In retrospect everything was a lot more disjointed as if the emotions had held the meaning together and now that they were seeping away, so did the coherence.

But her bones remembered the feeling, bright white joy as the Reaper died, blasting through the black carapace, burning up the blood. And the cold sand of conflict as she turned around, seeing herself from outside. She-ape. Killer of Reapers. Upright animal. Hope of the galaxy. Walking monkey. Warrior's Vengeance.

But she could not help Javik sort through that.


	2. Anger and Vengeance

Her little speech had had no effect whatsoever. Still, Shepard was willing to let it slip, seeing what she had seen in the experiences Javik had shared. She really wished he felt more as if he belonged. But what could she do? He was so far out of his cycle that he was nearly in the cycle after the next. That might have been easier for him too. No primitives running around running the show.

But she wouldn't give up hope. It was one of her major failings according to the Prothean. If she had believed him even a lick, she might have been tempted to prove him wrong. Shepard exited the elevator and turned left to the port cargo bay. Now that things had hopefully calmed down again, she would see how the mission to Thessia had affected him if at all. Javik was almost impossible to faze.

Mist was wafting through the room as usual and as usual Javik was standing at the basin in the far side, his hands playing in the water. He turned his head a little when she entered. “Commander.”

“Just checking if you're okay.” It was almost a ritual. Though probably no amount of checking would make him admit to anything.

“Did you check on the asari as well?” Javik asked. “She was more affected by our conversation.”

“Of course.” Shepard stopped a few paces away from him. Her eyes wandered through the sparsely furnished room. The lack of any personal belongings never sat quite right with her. That Javik used the floor for shelf space did not improve on the situation. “She is not happy, but she will live. Losing your home planet is not easy.”

“As she knows and we do not.” His tone gave away nothing.

“We had more time to get used to it.” Shepard didn't say that earth was far from lost if she had anything to say about it. “And you were kind, saying the things you said.”

“And you have forgiven me already for lying.” He turned to look at her.

“I cannot change you, Javik, can I?” Shepard crossed her arms before her. “I may not like it, but it did work. And it helped Liara.”

“Your insistence on honour is your weakness. I have told you so before.”

“You have told me a great many things about my various weaknesses.” She smiled. “I will be counting most of them as my strengths still.”

“Have it your way, Commander,” Javik replied. “Is there something else you need to talk about?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “I just wondered if you wanted to talk after Thessia.”

“Because of the Prothean VI?” Javik asked. “It was good to see something familiar, one of my own. It is good to be recognised.”

“I am sure it is. I wonder-” She broke off.

“If I had been,” the sarcasm in his voice rose several notches, “ _happier_ having it here? To talk to? To stoke my ego maybe?”

“To keep you company more like, but if your ego needs stoking.” Shepard couldn't finish before a snort gave her away. “But yes, that was my line of thought mostly. And I am sorry I lost it to Cerberus.”

“Everybody can tell that. You are moping, Commander.” He crossed his arms, mirroring her posture. “It is most unbecoming.”

“It's good to see you up to your usual lecturing self, Javik. I can now rest assured that you are as okay as you ever get.”

“Good.” There was a long pause. “I have thought about your offer.”

“And?” Shepard uncrossed her arms.

“I would like to accept it.” He did not look too happy about it.

“You don't have to,” she assured him. “It's fine. And I am sure the team will be happy to it if that will help.”

“You do not understand.”

“No. No I don't.”

“The others are- " Javik hesitated.

“Primitive?” Shepard suggested.

“If you will,” he agreed. “I was looking for a word stronger than different. Even a casual touch will relay information. It is not the same.”

“And I am different?” Shepard frowned. “Is it because of the cipher?”

“That is my assumption, yes. The images are clearer, making more sense.” Javik tilted his head to the side.

“I think I know what you mean.” Shepard recalled the feeling of fracturing when physical contact with Javik had broken. Maybe the received images were translating to him like this from the start. That would be a pity.

“What do you want to see?”

Javik hesitated again. “This is not how this works, Commander.”

“Oh. I am sorry,” she apologised. “I hope I didn't offend you.”

“You did not,” he said. “You cannot know the correct procedures. In this case it would have been to offer a choice of subjects you are comfortable sharing. Unlimited access is reserved for those close to you.”

“Oh. Well. I am really sorry.” Interspecies manners were not Shepard's forte. Obviously that didn't change if the species in question had died out fifty thousand years ago. And telling Javik she considered him a friend, if maybe not yet a close one, Shepard was not sure that would actually improve anything.

“I took no offence,” Javik said. That was a victory in itself, considering how the Prothean was still thinking of them as mostly trained apes. “In return, I hope you will not be offended by my choice. I would like to see what makes you angry.”

“Of course,” she smiled. “I am not offended. The request suits you.” She held out her hands palms, facing up. Times like these, angry was way too easy, way too often.

For a moment, Javik's hands hovered above hers, then he gripped them tightly. She returned the gesture, closing here eyes on impact. The sheer knowledge of not being alone ran through her like a shock wave. It took effort not to get lost in that and concentrate on her anger instead. Shepard started at the beginning, an easy jumping-off point.

The Thresher Maw rearing its head from the ground, the relentless attacks wiping out her whole team. Faces blurred by time but the screams piercing like new needles, honed by the intimate acquaintance with death over the years. The inability to save anybody raging through her, the desire to wipe out that Thresher Maw, wipe out the whole species, keep fighting and don't go down. Survive and burn a mark on this one.

Saren in the Council meeting, innocence pretended and believed. The husks on Horizon, the geth and Sovereign. Saren and Sovereign on the citadel, another overpowering enemy. Virmire. An unwinnable choice. Saren getting away. Sovereign at the Citadel. Harbinger. Vanished colonists. Collectors and no mercy.

Jacob's father. Miranda's father. Don't hurt mine. Don't you dare. Jack in the facility on Pragia and the anger boiling in her blood that something like that should be possible, should happen to a small girl, should have happened to one of her own. Do not. Mine. Thane, coughing, dying. The inability to do anything for him. The fires on Zorya.

Gatatog Uvenk opposing them on Tuchanka. How dare he? The Thresher Maw didn't even matter under the glare of her anger, collateral damage. Her crew abducted by Collectors. No. Mine. Do not. I will end you. The base going down in flames. Javik alone in his room surrounded by trinkets of no personal importance. Unfair. Do not. Her inability to change anything.

Kai Leng bouncing off with her data. The Illusive Man. Cerberus. Thessia falling like earth, like Palaven. All of her friends fighting, fighting with little hope for tomorrow. Only her. Do not. Mine. Mine to protect. And her inability to change anything.

The genophage. Wrex and Eve. Mordin in the tower. Her inability to change anything. Inability to save anyone. Anderson on earth. Garrus betrayed by one of his own men. Virmire. Horizon. Zorya. Tuchanka. Thessia. Ashley. Kaidan. Zaeed. Mordin. Javik alone in his room. And the soaring anger at the unfairness of the universe. Her inability to change anything.

Javik broke the contact, gently, pushing her away without unbalancing her. Shepard blinked. The reality seemed calm after the sea of anger she had called up. She could feel the adrenaline in her blood, pumping through her veins with the desire to kill something. Another Reaper would do just fine.

Staggering backwards a step, she steadied herself on the railing on the bulkhead. “That was,” she blinked, swallowed and tasted the strange feeling of words on her tongue, “intense.”

“I thank you, Commander,” Javik just said. “I understand better now.”

“And that is a good thing?” Shepard hoped it did not show how much she leant against the railing to stay upright.

“Your anger is not what I expected,” he replied. “It is much more,” he hesitated, “personal.”

“It has to be.” Shepard scrounged up a smile to wear. “The extinction of the turian race is a philosophical problem. But Garrus? That is a different issue completely.”

“I understand the notion. Is that why you are working with such a diverse team?”

Shepard paused for a moment. “I have never thought about it like that. And I'm awfully short on batarians and hanar.”

“I understand that none have ever volunteered.” Javik stepped back towards the basin, his hands hovering over the shifting surface.

“Not everybody on board has volunteered,” Shepard objected.

“But they are free to leave should they wish,” Javik said. “They are not bound by duty as much as by love. You give them hope.”

Them, not us. Shepard suppressed a sigh. “I hope to give them more then that. We will beat the Reapers this time.”

“I understand now how you are doing it, Commander. Thank you.” His hands dove into the water, a tell-tale sign that he considered his side of the conversation to be finished.

Shepard watched him for a moment. He had easily distracted her from any conversation about the experiences shared. Should she bring it up? But how? And what was it she was really asking? He had given her the answer to that already, had he not? Them, not us.

“I'm glad to have you on the team,” she finally said. “And even if we cannot be close due to our histories, know that I do consider you a friend.”

He only nodded in acknowledgement. “Commander.”

Shepard nodded in return and left. Maybe she should be counting it as a victory that Javik was open to sharing experiences at all. It was an illusion to think that a life of ingrained superiority would wear off in a few weeks or even months. _I will not walk with you progressive apes.*_ But what choice did he have?

Javik was fuelled by duty and revenge. The fight against the Reapers should have been over for him when he woke up. And look at him now. Still fighting the Reapers. Who could blame him for his pessimism? He had been here before. His people had been building the Crucible. And she had lost their advantage to Cerberus.

Shepard sighed. No. She would not give up. Hope was all very well but you had to make good on it. The Illusive Man would be in for a nasty surprise or maybe a dozen. She would end this war and if it was the last thing she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Quote from J. R. R: Tolkien's Mythopoeia


	3. It's Only Words

The sound of the door chime pulled Shepard from her reading. She blinked a few times to fully return to reality. Since the disaster on Horizon she had read up on anything that hinted at mind control. Leviathan was proof that it worked, even on Reapers. And if Cerberus was after this, if they believed it feasible. She sighed.

“Come in.”

To her surprise it was Javik. A few others had sought her out after the truth about Sanctuary became know. It was hard to stomach. That humans were doing it was bad enough. That she had once allied herself with them. Shepard shook her head. Thinking about it didn't help. All she could do now was prove she was not on their side any longer.

“Commander.” Javik stopped before the fish tank. “So this are the fish. They do not look edible.”

“I don't think they are, Javik,” Shepard called across the room as she got up. “That's not their purpose, either.”

With a last glance back, he came down the few stairs, scanning the armour locker, bed, desk, and lounge as he went. “Then what is their purpose?”

“They look nice,” Shepard said. “Nicer than a big tank full of water that is.”

“You could have refitted it as a playground for the hamster,” he said. “You could keep more than one then.”

“That is,” Shepard blinked, “actually that is a great idea. Why didn't you visit sooner?”

“I had no reason to,” Javik replied.

“Do you need a reason?”

“What reason do you have, Commander, when you come visiting.”

“I,” she hesitated, “I want to talk.” There was no reply. Ouch. “So, what reason do you have now? Do you want a drink? Sit down?”

“You are hesitating. You know where to find Cerberus, but you do not go.” He scrutinised the couches, readers, and half empty bottle of red wine.

“You think I should charge. Now.” She wondered what conclusions he would draw from what he saw.

“It is irrelevant what I think,” he deflected. “I want to know your reasons for not doing so.”

“Your opinion is not irrelevant, Javik.” Shepard sat down again, shaking her head. “I value your input. You have experience fighting against the Reapers none of us could hope for. If you think that we should attack now, it is important.”

“Will it sway you, Commander?” He sat down on the very edge of the couch.

“It just may,” Shepard replied truthfully.

“Then tell me, what are you waiting for?”

Shepard took a deep breath. “Do you know what all of those goddamned missions I was on had in common?” She didn't wait fro him to reply. “There was always, always one more thing to be done. Always one more step than anticipated.”

“That is true for most missions in a war like this,” Javik agreed.

“Yes, but still most of those operations are not suicide missions.”

“I have read the files,” Javik said. “They heavily imply that your success rate for suicide missions is 100% and your losses,” he paused shortly, “negligible.”

“I have lost people.” Shepard suppressed the urge to hug herself. “I would not call that-”

“Yes, I know you would not,” Javik interrupted her. “But your assessment of losses in this war are heavily slanted. The survival of all life is at stake, Commander. A few dead do not shift the balance. Even if your motivation system is highly personal.”

“Yes, you would say that.”

“Indeed. Somebody has to.”

“I guess you're right.” Shepard leant back with a sigh. “This is the end, Javik. Of the Reapers, yes, and of way too many good people. We planned it as well as we could and you know we don't have much to work with. We can win this. But not without losses.”

“No war can be won without them, Commander. What is your point?”

“This is the _end_ , Javik. Once we start, this is it. No more dinners with the family, no game of cards with friends, no last respite with loved ones. We do and maybe die and there is no guarantee we will get another look at what we cherish.” She sighed. “I did what I could. All the little detours, the solved problems, the party. It was all I could do. But is it enough?”

“Yes, it is. What more could you have done? And we all know what we signed up for,” Javik said softly. “We know what is at stake. Delaying the inevitable does not help.”

“Back in your cycle,” Shepard forced a smile, “if you had had the chance to spend one more day with those you love. Just a few hours doing another little job before the end. Would you?”

Javik did not reply for a very long time. “I do not know, Commander. I was with my men. They were the closest bonds I had. We fought together. We died together. There was no time to think of what you call love. You had to find it in the war or not at all.”

“I believe it is possible,” Shepard said.

“You encourage it,” Javik said. “I have seen the results on the party.”

“Yes.” Shepard had to smile. “Yes, I do.”

“Why?”

“It's the end,” she repeated again. “Who knows how much time any of us have to be happy, to love and to care for somebody else deeply. And it gives you something worth fighting to. Something to return to when all is over. Somebody who will understand because they know what path you took, because they have seen and suffered the same. I can really see no disadvantages.”

“And still you stand alone,” Javik observed.

Well. There was that. The smile crumbled before she could catch all its corners. “I,” Shepard fell silent for a moment. “I am the one to make sure they all come back. That is why I am hope, because there is always another trigger to pull and if somebody has to stay behind to do it that is me. The Collector base beyond the Omega 4 Relay? That was a suicide mission.

“But I was already dead. I will not leave strong ties flapping, shattered hopes or dreams. And I am good at what I do. The best. We will beat the Reapers. But if anybody has to die for this, it is going to be me. I am the one to walk the unexpected extra mile. You don't need my kind of hope when you have life.”

“You do not plan to return?” Javik asked.

“Hell I don't,” she objected. “I plan for everybody to return. Return and live happily ever after. But if somebody has to stay behind-” she trailed off. “I was dead already, Javik. Everybody I knew had come to terms with the fact that I was dead. The epitome of expendable.”

“You have friends now, close friends,” Javik pointed out.

New friends, Shepard wanted to say but it was beside the point. “It is complicated,” she said instead. “I cannot do this without friends. But I can do it easier when I believe I will not be missed much.”

“So you lie to yourself.” Javik nodded.

“Is there anybody I don't lie to?” She wanted to know. “I keep telling everybody it will be okay, that we will win, that we can defeat the Reapers. What proof do I have?”

Javik reached over the table, touching her shoulder lightly. “Call the attack now. Do not delay. Do not risk that your friends end like mine.”

Shepard had to think of the crew Javik had killed himself after their indoctrination. It had been even worse than she had imagined. She could feel the knife in her hand, his hand, their throats, the blood all over them.

We could only find love in the war. There or not at all. Killed them myself. With my own hand. In war or not at all. Do not let them end like that. There is a fate worse than death. What are you waiting for? This? The blood cooled on her skin, thick and sticky. Faces she never knew but would never forget. Is this what you want?

If there is hope, it lies in strength and unity.

Shepard blinked. Javik was still sitting on the very edge of the couch, his hands now resting in his lap. He seemed to be deep in thought, far away. She couldn't blame him.

“You are right.” She had to swallow to make sure the next words would get out around the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”

“Whatever it takes, Commander.” He didn't look at her.

“Yes.” Shepard closed her eyes.

“I also appreciate that you never brought up my behaviour at the party.”

Her eyes flew open and despite everything, Shepard wanted to laugh. “Javik, you're cute as fuck when you're drunk. We should repeat that when this is over.”

“My behaviour was undignified,” he insisted. “And sleeping in your bathroom is unacceptable.”

“I am just sorry you couldn't sleep in the tub. I hope Zaeed has untangled that mess by the time we get back. Or I'll throw _him_ into it.” Shepard shook her head. “You have changed the subject on me again.”

“Of course, Commander.” There might have been the hint of a smile on his face as he got up.

“I would say 'I should go', but considering the circumstances,” Shepard shrugged.

“Understood.” He stopped in front of the fish tank again. “And should you ever reconsider and keep edible fish in here-”

“I'll invite you over when I eat one. Got it.”

When the door had closed behind the Prothean, Shepard looked at her reader and the unfinished glass of wine. Would one more hour of procrastination decide the fate of the galaxy?


	4. Since the Last Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am taking liberties with the game's original dialogue here. What were you expecting?

You don't do this.  
You don't do this. You don't do this. You don't do this. Shepard kept telling that to herself, but still she couldn't stop. This was the last stretch, a last hurdles race. There was no knowing if she returned. She didn't count on it. There was no knowing if any of them returned. She would make sure as hell that they did.

In the meantime it was important that they knew. You didn't do this, last goodbyes, but Shepard had to make sure they knew. They had to know how much she cared for them. It might be the last chance. And they knew that as well. Garrus and Tali, standing close. Wrex, his eyes small, finally with a future worth fighting for. Jack and Zaeed shrugging it off because what else can you do?

Absolutely nothing. Shepard felt the white of anger burn again. The inability to change anything. But this she could do. Less hugs than expected, not giving in to despair even now, not making things final. Hope.

She found Javik standing at a broken window, looking over the rubble of London at the white pillar of light. The last stretch it might be, but it would still be a hell of a race. She looked over the ruins stretching before them. “To think it was worse in your time.”

“Yes.” He didn't turn around. “I have been listening to the krogan speaking to his men. In my cycle the races never came together. There was no rallying cry.” He made a short pause. “I envy you.”

“Because of that?” Shepard asked. Javik would have come a long way.

“The future is still out there,” he just said. “It is something my people could never say: there will be a tomorrow.”

“Only if we win today.” If he didn't want to go there, she would not force him. Everybody had enough on their plate without last minute conversions.

“No one else has ever made it this far,” Javik said gazing out.

He had to know. After all he had been one the last standing in his own cycle. Shepard couldn't fathom how that felt. “You came a long way, Javik. Further than anyone else here.”

“And I look forward to fulfilling my mission.”

Shepard smiled sadly. For him to think what was at stake would have been expecting too much. His duty was all he had left of his own cycle. No friends to stand with. No last goodbyes to say half-hearted because you didn't want to jinx it. No home to fight for, no family to defend.

“But you are now the avatar of this cycle,” he suddenly continued. “The exemplar of victory. Not just for humanity, or turians, or Protheans – but for all life. Every soul that has ever existed is watching this moment.”

She didn't know where to start. How did victory and vengeance even go together? It was not even a way she knew how to think. “Well, no pressure when you put it that way.” She decided to avoid the whole mess.

“I know you will see this through for all of us, no matter the cost.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “that is kinda the idea. And what will you do once we pulled this off, Javik?”

“You know my plans, Commander. They did not change.” He finally turned to face her. “Since I have seen my past again in the Echo Shard, my mind has been at rest with my decision. The Cronian Nebula will be waiting.”

“I had no business hoping you would find something to live for in this cycle,” Shepard sighed.

“There was more than I had expected,” Javik admitted, “but you are correct in assuming that it is not enough. But it will be as it should, Commander. The last Prothean voice has spoken. There is nothing left to say.”

He produced the Echo Shard. “Here. The Shard is yours now. Add to it. The progeny f this cycle will study it. They will know this was the day when the Reapers were no more. And that you were their conqueror.”

Taking the Echo Shard, Shepard reached out for his arm. “Not only me. This victory will be yours as much as it is mine. I wish I could tell you how much.”

The Prothean regarded her for a while, his four eyes blinking slowly. “That you did.”

The tug was sudden but not unexpected. Shepard closed her eyes and knew she was not alone. Never alone. One self-reliant unit, one among many, a star in a galaxy of shining futures. She felt Javik, burning like a million suns, vengeance of his cycle, ready to fulfil his destiny. He was blinding.

And she knew him. Avatar of vengeance. He was a perfect fit. Just as she was. Perfect for her life, for her choices, a sphere of coherence and consequence. Shimmering. Independent. But not alone. If she was ready to fight to the last, give it all, she would. Because that was her. But she was not alone. Others would fight to their last. Each and every one of them perfect, self-reliant, and complete in themselves. And still connected. Dark stars in a darkening galaxy. Still burning.

In that moment Shepard knew them all perfectly. All memories, all experiences. Nothing would ever be forgotten as long as one of them continued. _Had to be me_ , Mordin's voice echoed in her head and she understood him with sharp clarity. Nobody else could be her. Nobody else could do what she could. And that was true for all of the lights around her. Each perfect on its own, and still never alone.

Shepard could feel the heat from a million stars, their courses speeding up, running towards the bright centre of the galaxy. Each their own. On their own. Not alone. The feeling burnt itself into the background of her being slowly as her surroundings took on shape again.

“I,” she looked up, searching Javik's face before resting her forehead against his armour again, “thank you.”

“I am amazed your kind got as far as you did, thinking you were so alone.” He made no attempt to remove her.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I am sorry I can’t see your cycle.”

“So am I, Commander.” He pushed her away just enough to look down at her face. “I would have liked to show you our accomplishments. And you would not have been alone.” He hesitated. “As I have not been alone in this cycle.”

“You will always be my friend, Javik,” Shepard said. “This cycle or any other.”

“In my cycle,” he began like so many times before, “we lost.”

“But in this cycle you will win,” she replied. “We will conquer and eradicate the Reapers.” She smiled. “We _will_ end them.”

“That we will.” He was still holding on to her arm. “It is an honour to serve with you.”

So there it was, awkward last goodbye in fear of jinxing it. Shepard found a smile and put it on though it was a sad one. “Do you remember what I said about hope and survival?”

“I do.”

“Then know this, Javik. You will dance on their graves. Because the race to the Conduit? The activation of the Crucible? It is just another suicide mission. And I am the best. I will beat you all to the punch.”

 “Then, Commander, you will have to overtake me.”

 She nodded. Then she slowly rose to her toes, supported by his grip. “I will.” She breathed a kiss to his cheek. “Trust me, I will.”

 

* * *

 

She almost couldn't believe they had made it this far. The Conduit was within spitting distance. Metaphorically speaking. It was still a long sprint away. And nobody who had made it this far had any spit to squander.

Then Anderson gave the command and there was only the rush of air over her armour and the uneven ground flying by under her feet. Her eyes were glued to the Reaper before them, its read beam lashing out at their approach. The beam cut awfully close to them. But there was no retreat, only the chase.

The Conduit glowed ahead, beckoning. She slid away under a mako flying overhead, turning to see it come to a stop on its side behind her. Another mako toppled over her, its front catching in the downed vehicle, flipping it over. It hit the ground snout first and aimed at Javik and James who were following her. For a second everything cam to a full stop. Then they jumped out of the way to either side as the mako fell onto its roof cannon, exploding from the impact.

Shepard didn't wait until the fires abated. She jumped over the burning debris, grabbing her friends and pulling them into the illusionary safety of another stranded mako. James was bleeding badly and Javik was not looking all in one piece either.

No! Don't! Mine! Don't you dare! Anger flared up in her. “Normandy! Do you copy?” She almost shouted into her comm. “I need an evac. Right now!”

She didn't even care what it took. This was not how things went down. This was not what she had signed up for. What she had signed everybody else up for. Looking at the blood streaming down the faces of her friends she suppressed a cringe.

“We're taking heavy losses up here, Commander,” Joker replied.

Shepard didn't care. And Joker did not pronounce the word 'commander' quite right, either. Her glance bounced off Javik's armour.

“On our way, Commander.” Joker reported just a moment later.

Shepard sighed in relief. The advantages of rank. She pulled James to his feet, making sure Javik was able to follow on his own. “Come on.”

The Normandy descended from the sky like a Valkyrie, but this time she would take the living and would ensure their survival. “Here. Take him.” She pushed James in Javik's direction.

But he was a soldier through and through. Perfect for his life. Perfect for his decisions. Another star circling the void, ready to give his all. “Shepard...”

“You gotta get out of here,” she cut him off. The inability to change anything. Don't you dare. Mine! Shepard swallowed. This was it. This was the moment. Her time to make things right. Hope was a gift of poisoned blades.

“Don't argue with me,” she went on before James could think of something else to say. “Just go. Please.”

James nodded and let himself be led away by another crew member. Javik on the other hand stayed where he was, cast in iron, looking down at her. She forced another smile. He knew her too well to fall for it, that much she knew. But he knew her too well. Maybe he should have taken that into consideration before sharing their essences.

“I told you I am the best at this, Javik,” Shepard said. “It takes more to overtake me.”

“Commander-”

She interrupted him with an upheld hand. “Go, Javik. Go and live. Dance on their graves and if it is only for me. Let the last Prothean voice be heard in our victory.”

“As you wish, Commander.” He did not sound happy. “If something to return to will help.”

“It will.” She gestured the Normandy to take off.

Then there was nothing but the chase. She turned towards the Conduit, it's bright light drowning out the surroundings. Nothing else mattered. Do it for them. Because nobody hurt her team. Don't you dare. Dare and die. There was nothing, nothing that would save you from the wrath of Shepard, fucking Paragon of Humanity, and your end in capital letters. Don't even think about it.

She began to run again. Her boots scraped over loose cement, rubble unbalancing her every other step, but the Conduit was unmoved. Into the light, she thought. Go into the light. Who'd have thought it would be like this? But at least she was the one going. The Citadel might be a death trap by now. But it didn't matter. Because she was the one going there.

And if she made it, so would everybody else. Just one last mile, one last detour, one last extra. The white light approached and she raised her weapon on automatic. One shot, another. The recoil soft, delayed and the husks falling to the ground in slow motion.

Shepard followed suit. Her nose was hot against the cold stone, loose rubble pressing against her cheek. With a grunt she got up again. Good. Yes. Remember. Grunt. Wrex. Tali. Do it for them. Garrus. James. Liara. The face of Javik hovered over her, distant and disapproving as ever. But he knew her.

A banshee appeared out of nowhere but had no chance against her heightened senses. Shepard reached out, her hand touching the light. Dance on their graves. Live anyways. She could feel the beam's suction. Just another extra mile. She gave in.

 

* * *

 

Everything was perfectly still.

Shepard didn't open her eyes though her last conscious memory was that of a shock wave hurling her through the air, rolling over her when the tube exploded. The noise of splintering and debris filling the air. The ground under her feet shaking as if the Citadel was just another fighter caught in evasive manoeuvres. Everything had hit her like a wall and then, she tried to inhale deeply and winced. Then she had dropped into darkness like a stone into water; calm, cool, and final.

Carefully, she cracked open an eye. There was nothing much to see. Broken metal, twisted beams and shards of glass and plastic. She might have been anywhere. Dim light filtered in from somewhere, undefined in its origin, filled with dust.

Shepard coughed and winced again as pain shot up her side. It hurt to move, still she made the effort, checked her omnitool. If anybody was ever to find out what happened here... But it was still working. Shepard turned the power off to conserve as much of it as possible. She had recorded most of the events with it. What good would her decision make if nobody understood it?

History would just repeat itself. Maybe it would take longer than fifty thousand years before some stupid organic got the idea for Reapers again. But you could trust in that, organics always found a reason to fight and try to control either each other or their creations. Point in case the krogan. Point in case the geth.

But look at us now!

Of course Joker would hate her. Even if there was enough of EDI's code enmeshed in the Normandy's functions to put her back together. And Legion. Legion had been gone already. Oh, we might live in our children but they are not us. They better not be.

Shepard blinked slowly, watching the hovering dust. It was cold in space, much too cold. Puffing her breath, she wondered why it did not form a little cloud. She felt like freezing. Might be all the better. Anderson did have a headstart. He shouldn't have called her child. Not just then, not for the first time when it was also the last.

Trying to stop that train of though, Shepard took another deep breath, feeling the fire race up and down her side, burning but not warming her the least. She laid back fighting for breath. So this was it. But with a little luck, just a little luck. She felt a tear squeeze its way out. Damn. How would she even know if she had made the difference in time? What if the Conduit had stopped working? How would anybody get here in time? No wait, the Citadel was hanging right over earth, wasn't it?

Shepard closed her eyes. It was all too exhausting. She had done all she could. This was it. Might as well try to relax. Think happy thoughts. Happiness. What was that even? She took a laboured breath, pain seeping into her whole body from the burning hole in her side. Happiness was a warm gun. The image of a Reaper rose behind her closed lids.

The grey sulphur skies overlaid with clouds. The read beam searching in vain. Kalros approaching and the ground shaking in her bones. Fractured images of memories not hers. But she remembered that. Yes, she remembered that. The air fuzzy with the dust of the fight. Just as it was here. She could almost feel it with her eyes closed. Smell the dry ash and hot stone.

Suddenly the veil whipped away, bright blue above and the drop before her feet, the marker gun in her hands aimed high, running, shooting, the Reaper approaching, the circle closing in, stumbling after each shot. Slowly going down and the blaze of joy with each hit. The bright white ecstasy was back, leading her, guiding the weapon in her hand, and when the fleet opened fire. Shepard exhaled with a sigh.

Yes, she remembered that. The end had to be close indeed if the memory became that vivid again, making sense from foreign pieces. But the red light dimmed, went out and deep satisfaction crept over her, silencing the pain.

“I think she is coming to, Doctor.” A voice she knew. A memory she knew, but the one turning around this time was a person, no she-ape but a friend, a confidant. “Commander.”

Shepard blinked. The face of the Prothean was hovering over her, one of his hands resting against her face. Now that explained the keenness of the memory at least. Something cold and spiky happened at her side. Glancing down, she could see Doctor Chakwas workings with sure hands, parts of body armour lying discarded around them.

“Do us all a favour and wait with asking questions until we have patched you up enough for transport,” Chakwas said without looking up.

Shepard closed her mouth, not having noticed opening it. With a last glance at Javik and a smile because, she closed her eyes again. The satisfaction ran deeper now. Funnelled by the death of all Reapers. The cycle had come to a close.


	5. The Last Of The Protheans

The Normandy felt empty.

In the aftermath of the Reaper invasion most of the crew had chosen to, at least temporarily, return home and help rebuild. Tali had gone to Rannoch with the Migrant Fleet, the task of settling down there more difficult now that the geth were gone. But Shepard had heard rumours that the quarians planned to rebuild everything, including them.

Only James stuck around, though, claiming that his N7 training could hardly begin before the facility in Rio was rebuilt. He was denying stoutly that he was also keeping an eye on her. Of course Shepard had returned to active duty as soon as she could. But nobody actually seemed to know what that consisted of for a hero, especially with all their foes defeated.

Still the Normandy was docked more often than not. Nobody was willing to throw the Hero of the Reaper War into the tick of action again. It seemed unthinkable to hand the Normandy over to somebody else either. Not that Shepard disagreed, she loved her ship, but it was a huge waste.

In a way it had been easier when she hadn't been allowed to get up. A never-ending string of friendly faces had made sure she didn't get a chance to slip away. All of them had denied that, of course. It had taken Shepard a whole week to get her own communications terminal. The messages that did reach her, felt heavily filtered still.

And now, she sighed, looking around her cabin. The fish were still alive, or replaced, the hamster in his usual place, the weapons locker glared at her with angry disuse. When the Normandy was in action, it was mostly promotional visits. The Victor of the Reaper War bringing hope with appropriately assorted companions.

The work was not bad per se. It was just a very far cry from her actual occupation and the things she had been trained for, the things she could do. But who needed a killer in these times? There had been more than enough death. Still, being a figurehead was not how Shepard wanted to spend her time.

One by one the Mass Relays went back online. There were even complaints from the involved scientists and engineers about having to do the same routine repairs over and over when they'd much rather have built their own Relay from scratch. Well, that would have to wait.

And with the Mass Relays trade returned, bickering started again. Almost as if nothing had changed. Almost as if the Reapers had been a bad dream. One day only memorials would remain. Shepard could only hope the lesson would stay learnt. She leant against the cool glass of the fish tank, trying to figure out what she would do with the rest of her life now that the Reapers were beat and she actually had one.

The door chimed. “Come in.” She rested her back against the cold glass.

“Commander.” Javik entered warily, scanning the room for possible threats before he relaxed, looking at her. His glance slipped to the fish behind her. “You never did get edible fish.”

Shepard had to smile. “No, I didn't.”

“The Artemis Tau Relay is back online, Commander” he said.

Shepard forced the smile to stay in place. “Alright. Anybody specific you would like to take along?”

“I will have company where I go,” he almost smiled.” It is a question you should ask yourself.”

“Because you don't trust me not to fall apart on the way back. Understood.” It wasn't that he was wrong. It was just that Shepard would have much preferred to pretend he was.

“Except if you want to leave it to your pilot and his AI,” Javik suggested.

“I have my money on the EDI there,” she sighed.

“Is he still angry at you?” Javik enquired.

“Can't blame him,” Shepard sighed. “I did delete his girlfriend after all.”

“It was necessary,” Javik said. “And I still do not agree with her reinstatement.”

He was also against recreating the geth. If the time he had spent on the Normandy had had any influence on his opinions, it was small. Though Shepard suspected that working with Liara on her book was progress of sorts for the Prothean. He had also spent some time among the hanar. She was not sure how much of a good influence he was.

“I happen to like EDI,” she said. “And I am glad there was enough of her code left in the Normandy to get her back. I wished the geth had gotten away as lightly. Maybe things will look up once we can travel to some of their hubs and see what is left of those.”

“Your naive optimism is unchanged,” he stated.

“So are you.” She crossed her arms before her. “We are more similar in that respect than I like.”

“You are also a bad liar still.” Javik made a disparaging noise.

“Only when I am about to go on,” She took a deep breath, “a suicide mission.”

“It is not suicide this time, Commander,” he said. “Call it homicide if you have to.”

“Now that makes it a lot better.” Shepard pushed away from the fish tank. “I'll tell Joker to set a course.”

“Thank you, Commander.” Javik inclined his head and left.

Joker didn't even argue and Shepard spent the whole journey holed up in her cabin. If Javik had goodbyes to say to anybody, he had said them already. Who would she call, Shepard wondered. She remembered the outpost in London. Everybody, she had called everybody. But that had been different. That had been the line of duty. This was a very private enterprise.

The descent to the surface was made in silence. Whatever Javik was thinking about, he was not wishing to share. He sat with his head resting against the wall, his eyes closed. Unlike Shepard, he looked as if he was perfectly at peace. He probably was.

The planet didn't even have a name. Just another ball of dirt circling a star, too out of the way to be colonised yet. Short grass clung to the ground, not a single tree. Only rocks broke the monotony of the rough green, rising sharply against the dark blue sky. A smattering of clouds with a purple tint hung low, hiding the sun and drowning everything in a diffuse light.

Shepard followed the Prothean who seemed to know exactly where to go. The high gravity pulled her down.

“It looked very different when I was last here.” Javik stopped and looked around.

“Fifty thousand years are a long time,” Shepard said.

“Indeed.” He glanced over the rocky grounds. “The last time I stood here, the galaxy was overrun with Reapers and no hope. Now they are defeated, soon they will be but a memory.”

He didn't add 'just like me'. He didn't have to. “Never think I am not sorry to see you go. You are a great soldier and a good friend. I will miss you, Javik.”

“And you were a good commander.” There was an audible pause as his usual from of address was occupying the wrong position and left him with no word. “It is a surprise to me that I should leave this cycle with even a hint of sadness.”

“I wish you wouldn't leave,” Shepard resigned. “But I understand you.”

“Of course you do.”

“No, not like that,” she tried a chucked and almost choked on it. “I don't know what to do with myself now that there is nothing to fight any longer.”

“You have only lost your purpose,” Javik said. “Your civilisation is still there. So are your friends. You will live.”

“Of course I will.” She sighed. All she needed was some time to figure out what to do next. Anybody she turned to would help her unquestioningly. And in a few years the Alliance wouldn't be that keen of keeping her safe. Her symbolic value would dwindle and allow her to return to actual active duty. Just hang in there.

And she had something to return to. She was not alone. Crumbs of memories streamed through her mind, the Citadel under siege, Horizon in its prime, a civilisation of astounding scope, imperialism and superiority, no regrets, the harsh rule of the Cosmic Imperative justifying everything. War. War and destruction wiping out everything. Actually everything.

But those were not her memory fragments. This was her cycle and in her cycle they won.

“It is only right that I go as they went.” Javik held out a knife.

Shepard took it nodding. “I am grateful you didn't sit me down with lessons on how to do this.”

“Why would I do that, Commander?” He tilted his head. “You know it.”

Shepard felt his hand over hers and of course. Of course she knew how to do it. The movement was burnt into her mind. The blade tearing through skin and flesh, the blood spurting out, the weight of their bodies slowly resting against hers. Blood on her hands. Blood everywhere over them all. The eyes of friends growing dim, and no silence from the dying.

Yes, she knew how it was done. And she would remember how you could do that to your own friends, your closest friends. She was about to find out for herself, too, was she not?

“I am sorry.” She didn't know why she said it.

“I know,” Javik said when she opened her eyes again. “It is the reason you are here now.”

“Right. Good. I guess.” She weighed the knife in her hand. 

There were tears starting to run down her face despite her best efforts. She fought them, fought the feelings down with sheer will power and calming breaths. “I know. Just-” She inhaled deeply. “There is one thing, before you go. Gods.”

Shepard ran the back of her hand over her face. “I'm a horrible failure at this experience exchange thing.” She exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. When she looked at Javik again, he was already holding out his hands, palms facing up. She smiled, took another deep breath to keep herself together.

Shepard hoped her message was not one flickering mess of stroboscope-scattered images when they arrived. But this was the last goodbye, no awkward moment that may or may not be the end of them. There was no way to jinx this.

And goddammit, she would miss him. He was a formidable fighter, an excellent soldier, a true friend if chock-full of sarcasm. How could she even express how much she appreciated what he had done, who he had been?

Javik in his stasis pod on Horizon. The surprise to find a Prothean, after all they had done, after all she had seen, known. The shock when he touched her arm, their memories racing around one another. Almost a deja vu of the beacons but clearer, making sense, coherent because of their owner. Suddenly knowing.

Shepard clamped her eyes shut at the memory. It had been like second sight, another view on the galaxy, on life, the war, the Reapers. Ah yes, the Reapers and his memories of fighting them. She smiled. She had never seen it as something rewarding in itself until that day. And hadn't they torn them a new one every other turn?

But there was so much more. Feelings she had no words for, bright emotions that struck their roots into trust, branching out, a crown of their own, burning fire and the dark calm of the deep sea. Lights sprang up against the backdrop of war, each their own perfection. Mordin on the tower because only he had taken that road, only he had made his decisions, only he was in the right place at the right time for them. Perfect. Seashells on the beaches of a long forgotten holiday.

This was war. You couldn't save everybody, but each and everybody was worth it and everybody lost left a wound that would show until the end. She didn't want Javik to leave. But there were decisions not hers to make. Sidonis. Zorya. Morinth. Mordin. Because you were not the only one who had to get it right.

Shepard felt her thoughts tangle and shatter. Away from the difference Javik had made in her life. Away from the painful now that awaited. But there was no short-cut. The only way out was through. It was only pain anyway. And knowing it so well, who was she to inflict it on anybody but herself? What right did she have?

She opened her eyes, an apology on her mind just before she let go. This was still difficult. Even though she knew how it should work, not being a Prothean complicated things enormously.

“I appreciate.” Javik knelt down, blinking up slowly at her as he exposed his throat. “Also that you gave it as a gift of company for the way instead of one of guilt for leaving.”

Shepard smiled despite herself, kneeling down behind him. “What kind of friend would I be, Javik?” The knife was heavy in her hand. It was a question that kept nagging at her. What kind of friend was she?

“It had to be you.” He said, his tone slightly amused.

“Yes. Somebody else would definitely have gotten it wrong.”

Javik nodded and closed his eyes. “Thank you, Shepard.”

It took her a moment to assemble enough of herself to breathe and put her free hand gently on his carapace. Whatever else, he would not die alone. Sometimes you did everything right. And still. She took another calming breath. This was not about her. She could fall apart all she wanted in a few moments. Shepard closed here eyes for a moment, blinking her way back into a calm reality. This she would do and this she would do right.

It was the damnedest thing, leaning forward and running the blade across his throat. But she did it right. Because she knew how, because he had done it before, because the pain did not matter. It was the same. And his eyes stayed closed and she could feel the serenity seeping from him with his life. Almost no regrets. And not alone. Never alone.

Shepard steadied his body against hers as his muscles loosened, steadied herself against him for a long time after he was gone. The last Prothean voice had spoken.


End file.
